House of Luxventi
by Darkpetal16
Summary: In which Tom M. Riddle Jr grew up in a loving home, with a good mother, and never knew the horrors of being an abandoned orphan. COMPLETE one-shot.


Happy birthday month for our favorite little serial killer!

In which Tom M. Riddle Jr grew up in a loving home, with a good mother, and never knew the horrors of being an abandoned orphan.

Asexual **and **aromantic OC. Pure family-focus.

Genre: Gen

Rating: K+ — T

ℒ✪ⓥℯ

Amare Luxventi was always alone, but never lonely.

She was the last of her house, with her parents dying at a young age and leaving her to the care of her paternal grandfather, Lord Dominus of the Ancient and Noble House of Luxventi. Her family originated in Italy but migrated to England a couple of centuries ago. That being said Luxventi still owned plenty of land in Italy; mostly wineries and ranches. Due to their more recent immigration to England, they weren't as held in equal regard to other Ancient and Noble Houses such as the Malfoys or Longbottom. They were still considered an Italian Nobility and thus was largely kept out of the loop when it came to the elite social circles.

But that was fine for the family who was largely reclusive. They typically focused on their businesses and kept to themselves. They did not send their children off to school, choosing instead to homeschool them and groom them to take over the family businesses. It was unfortunate that this reclusive nature made it difficult for the Luxventi House to form proper alliances since attending school was such an easy step towards that.

In fact, the first Luxventi to break that tradition was Amare. With her parents deceased shortly after birth, and her uncles, aunts, and cousins following behind quickly, she was left entirely alone with her grandfather.

Dominus was already near the age of a hundred when Amare was left in his care, and he knew he simply did not have the energy to care for her.

He also knew that she would someday, sooner than later, be left as the last Luxventi.

Determined to see his House survive, he decided to send her off to Hogwarts with the express purpose of securing an alliance, and marriage for Luxventi.

She (barely) succeeded in the former, but not in the ladder.

Amare was brilliant when it came to academics, easily fitting in with her fellow gifted students. She excelled at potions and rune crafting. Anything she read once she could recite back, and she hardly ever needed a lesson repeated.

But while she was gifted academically, she fell short socially.

There was something awkward about the girl. Anyone who talked to her felt like they were talking to a wall. She lacked the grace to win over hearts or friendships, and while she did _try _to connect to anyone her own age, she failed spectacularly.

The students that "befriended" her did so on a professional level, treating her as an alliance and nothing more.

Even marriage proposals fell flat, despite her pureblood status.

So Amare graduated Hogwarts with alliances, but no friends.

She took control of Luxventi shortly afterward and threw herself into her research. She published plenty of papers, won a handful of esteemed rewards, kept her family businesses prospering, and brewed special potions for her alliances.

She was not invited to social gatherings.

She did not have any social visitors.

She did not talk to anyone outside of professionalism.

Amare Luxventi lived entirely alone.

And she was starting to get lonely.

ℒ✪ⓥℯ

**December, 1926**

Amare wandered the streets of London, her black cloak wrapped tightly around her. It was nearly past midnight, snow covering everything and still falling. There weren't many out on the streets at that time, either.

Every now and then when Amare went down another street and she saw no one, she could pretend that it was only her in the whole world. That everyone and everything else had vanished into the night.

She didn't often take these strolls, but sometimes she needed a break from her too-large home. And while the London air was pleasant, some of the Muggles were crude and gross, it had occasional moments of absolute stillness. Like the city was holding its breath for a brief moment and everything faded away.

Amare lived for those moments. For that absolute silence because in those moments _everyone _faded away.

No one mattered.

Not even Amare.

ℒ✪ⓥℯ

And then there was a stir in the stillness of the night.

A call of magic so desperate and pitiful that Amare could not help but go toward it.

At the end of it was a dead witch, a cluster of nuns, and a crying baby bursting with magic.

It wasn't hard to put two and two together.

The innate magic inside the infant was what had called for help, a fervor desire to live, for its mother to live, lead to an outburst. It was doubtful the Muggles had noticed it, and since they were in a very Muggle-enriched part of London Amare didn't think for a second any other witch or wizard would have noticed.

A now orphaned wizard baby, surrounded by Muggles.

"Pardon, Sisters," Amare politely interrupted, surprising the nuns with her presence. "I am… acquaintance with the young woman here."

"Oh, God bless you, child. We are sorry for your loss," one of the sisters said.

"If I may…" Amare pulled out her purse, counting out the Muggle money she kept on hand for her Muggle employees at the vineyards. "Please, accept this donation as thanks for your assistance. I will take care of the mother and child."

There were a few more questions and conversations had, but it wasn't difficult to persuade the sisters to hand over the wizard and witch to Amare. Regardless they couldn't stay in the orphanage. Amare would bury the witch on her vineyard, and for the infant who the Sisters told her was named Tom—

Amare held Tom in her arms, and the baby turned his head into her chest.

Something… stirred inside of Amare.

A moment between one heartbeat and the next. Amare stared down at the baby, wondering what caused such an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach. He was such a pretty thing, with dark curls and pale skin. He almost looked a bit like her grandfather, the late Lord Dominus.

Amare reached out a tentative finger and brushed it along Tom's cool cheeks. The baby reacted to her touch by reaching out and grabbing her finger. She looked in wonder at the tiny little fingers grasped surprisingly tightly around her index finger.

Warmth and trepidation settled inside of the witch. She did not understand what was happening, nor was she entirely comfortable with it.

Amare Luxventi had always been alone.

But she realized then that she had grown lonely.

Nearly thirty years of age and not a single friend or family member to call her own.

She knew she should have found someone and provided an heir, but she could never bring herself to do so. No one caught her attention, and the idea of forcing herself to be with any man or woman made her feel ill. She _wanted _an heir to her family, because then what would be the point of gathering all of her alliances only to have her house snuffed out by her?

She _wanted_ a family.

She simply didn't know how to go about making it happen.

Until tonight.

"I'll take him," Amare whispered. She adjusted her grip on Tom and pulled out her purse, grabbing another wad of Muggle money and placing it in the hands of his previous caretaker. The woman's eyes bulged at the amount, sputtering out a thank you.

But Amare paid her no heed.

The witch turned on her heel, left the orphanage behind, and changed the course of history.

ℒ✪ⓥℯ

Amare understood how to care for an infant, but actually doing so was a bit tricker than she anticipated. She was a licensed healer and potioneer, so she knew how to keep the baby healthy.

However, Amare herself rarely received physical affection in her childhood, but she remembered that she craved it constantly back then. She went out of her way to earn her grandfather's praise in the vain hope he would pat her head.

She wished she had hugs or kisses like she knew her roommates had.

So Amare decided that she would give Tom what she missed out on.

She held him often and kissed his cheek and nose every chance she got. She sang to him in her off-key voice and talked to him every time he was awake.

Her sleeping schedule was completely thrown off by his arrival, but she thought that was fine.

A baby's crying somehow made the too-big mansion feel a little less empty.

The house elf, Fortunato, was also delighted to have someone else to clean up after. Changing diapers was not something Amare could do very well, but Fortunato was an expert.

The first few years of Tom's life was spent with quiet adoration. Amare purchased dozens upon dozens of books—both magical and Muggle—about child-raising. She subscribed to multiple psychological articles and studied with fervor on how to be a good mother.

She learned how to be affectionate, but not over doting. Spoiling too much would only harm in later on.

She praised him when he succeeded, and scolded him when he misbehaved. She used a variety of punishments before she finally settled on making him do chores, and taking away toys when he behaved badly.

She brought him out into the public's eye when he was around four. Some of her closer alliances knew she had taken an heir, but she wasn't close enough to any of them to prematurely introduce them to Tom.

That being said, she knew that social interaction with others around his age would be imperative to his psychological growth.

Or so she had read. She herself didn't have any friends in… ever, so _she _didn't see the need for them but she wanted whatever was best for her son. All the articles insisted that it was important he had a social peer group to play with.

When Septimus Malfoy, one of Amare's closest alliances—he knew _about _Tom when Amare had to take a few months on maternity leave. Amare was the Malfoy's go-to potion mistress, in addition to being a cursebreaker on the side. Although the Malfoy's preferred to _add _more curses than break them, Amare didn't mind since they paid her well enough, and they were always good to return the favor—invited her and her son to their Yule Ball. Ordinarily, Amare would decline, but for the sake of her son, she accepted the invite.

Septimus had a child a few months older than Tom. A boy named Damien. It would be good to introduce the two of them.

ℒ✪ⓥℯ

**December, 1930**

Amare came to the ball in traditional blue and black dress robes. She swept her long blonde hair up into a bun and adorned a proper witch's hat. She had luxurious hand-made black dress robes for Tom and carried him in her arms as she entered the Malfoy manor.

As always, the manor was beautifully decorated.

Tom was a quiet boy, taking in the luxurious manor with wide sparkling eyes that only a child could have. Amare brushed a sweet kiss across his forehead, smelling his freshly cleaned scent and wishing the two of them were at home instead. She so adored watching Tom play with blocks, and try to read Amare's paperwork while in her lap.

It was certainly more comfortable than being at a social event.

But Amare was a proper witch and lady, and she knew how to be a gracious guest.

"Good evening, Lady Luxventi," Lady Sol Malfoy greeted, pale blue eyes glittering. Lady Sol Malfoy was a dazzling beauty with a voluptuous figure, long curly silver hair, and mesmerizing gaze. She was rivaled in looks only by Lady Longbottom. Whereas Lady Sol Malfoy was all temptation and purrs, Lady Longbottom was sharp and demanding.

Both women had a way of manipulating things to their favor. As both neutral families in regards to politics, both women held a powerful vote through their husbands.

(And everyone knew who was truly in charge of the households.)

Amare gracefully curtsied to the charming witch.

She demurred, "A truly beautiful party, Lady Malfoy."

Lady Malfoy smiled coyly. "Not nearly as beautiful as your son. Might I get a proper look at him?"

She could hardly refuse, carefully turning Tom around in her arms so Lady Malfoy could see him.

"My, what long lashes he has!" Lady Malfoy cooed, her eyes flickering up to meet Amare's. "He must take after his father."

Amare's lips thinned as she put on her practiced smile. "Yes."

"You'll have to tell me _all _about him," Lady Malfoy insisted.

"Of course, but I'd like to wait until my son hears about him first," Amare answered in response, her response prepared. She knew the ladies would be interested in who exactly was able to successfully _bed _the reclusive Luxventi witch.

Lady Malfoy laughed lightly, easily accepting this response. "I suppose I can wait a while longer. Something _this _juicy is worth the wait. Come along in, now, _my dear_. Let's introduce this adorable little heir to his future friends."

The next night, a worrying thought kept Amare awake.

ℒ✪ⓥℯ

_'What about his father?'_

The sisters had told Amare when she came back to collect the corpse, that the mother who had birthed Tom insisted he was dead, but Amare had to wonder. Tom was clearly gifted in magic, it wouldn't surprise Amare if his father was a powerful wizard. Was the poor woman an unlucky maiden that caught his eye? Did he curse her face, and body beyond recognition, to ensure that no one would be able to find her?

What if Tom's father tried to take Tom away from Amare?

'_Unacceptable.'_

Amare would not tolerate it. She was certain that with the help of her alliances she would be able to outmaneuver _any _lord, but—

Amare couldn't risk it.

She had to find Tom's father and make sure he would never take her son from him.

ℒ✪ⓥℯ

It only took one week to find Tom's father. She knew his full real name—Tom Marvolo Riddle Jr—so the first step was to look for any Tom Riddles. Riddle didn't belong to any wizarding family in Europe, so Amare had to wonder if his father was hiding amongst the Muggle populace. It wouldn't have been too terribly surprising, given the mounting tensions, and from that point…

Tom Riddle Sr looked alarmingly like his son, Tom Riddle Jr.

Amare watched the family for a few days. She collected town gossip and checked out Tom's birth mother's home.

She could scarcely believe it.

Tom's _mother _was the only witch in the relationship, and his father was a _Muggle_. Furthermore, his mother was a direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin, and his entire family was Parseltongue. Amare would be willing to bet all her money that Tom inherited that genetic trait.

And if _that _was the case then—

'_Tom was the heir of Slytherin.'_

Amare ended up taking a dip into her wine collection that night when she figured all of that out.

The Slytherin seat sat empty for centuries. His entire bloodline had squandered their money due to inbreeding insanity.

'_Ironic that as soon as new blood was mixed in, Tom was created.'_

Tom showed no obvious signs of inbreeding. He had no bone deformations, no mental illnesses, no issues with using logic, no emotional outburst outside the norm. For all appearances, Tom looked like an incredibly healthy young boy.

'_But on his mother's side was inbreeding so heavy they became physically, and magically deformed.'_

While her son didn't show any of the clear symptoms, Amare made a mental note to begin looking into the consequences of inbreeding. It was entirely possible that his magic was strong enough that it healed all of the errors during infancy, but Amare wasn't comfortable with _ifs_. When it came to her son, she wanted absolute proof that he would be okay.

Continuing on that vein, though…

What was she going to do about his father?

Having a Muggle father would put him at a serious disadvantage in politics. Her own alliances might even become reluctant to assist the Luxventi family later on, if they question his blood purity too much.

Amare herself had no issues with Muggles or half-bloods, _but her allies did_.

In order for Luxventi to retain its power, wealth, and status in magical Britain her heir could not be a half-blood.

Which meant only one thing—

She had to hide the truth about Tom's father.

The entire town of Little Hanging was about to experience a determined mother's focus. Obviate might not have been her most skilled spell, but Amare would _ensure _that no one remembered _anything _about the Gaunt or Riddles.

It took a couple of days, but the village was small and trusting. All she had to do was remove the scandal from their minds, and erase all presence of the Gaunts. With the entire Gaunt family dead, it was easy to hide their presence. She methodically destroyed their home—but she kept the heirlooms that she recognized as valuable—and covered up the plot of land with fresh grass and flowers. She fixed up the Riddles family, substituting the scandal memory for that of Tom Sr falling gravely ill and becoming bedridden for a few years instead.

She wrapped up the Slytherin heirlooms—a locket and ring—in a big black wizard cloak and stowed them all away in her attic.

She didn't want to have to deceive her son—she _really _didn't—but she would be damned if she didn't do everything in her power to give him the best life possible.

When Tom was ready to ask about his father, she would present him with the ring, amulet, and cloak. She would tell him his father was a descendant of Slytherin but had fallen victim to a dark curse from exploring ruins in Egypt. He had returned to Britain, planning to die in peace, when Amare met him.

The two would "fall in love" and conceive Tom.

The man, Amare decided to name him Alder, would pass away shortly before Tom's birth. In order to make sure the curse couldn't spread any further, Amare cremated his body and planted—planted, um—chrysanthemums to be used as his grave marker.

'_Oh boy,' _Amare thought to herself as she came up with her lie, '_I'm going to have to rehearse this story. Tom will probably want to know _about _his father, too…'_

For a second Amare was tempted to simply tell Tom the unbridled truth.

'_Your father? A Muggle. Your real mother was an inbred tramp that literally kidnapped and raped your father. When your father realized what happened, he ditched you. I found you as your mother died. You're not my blood son, nor a pureblooded wizard.'_

'_Sorry.'_

Amare vehemently shook her head at that. '_No. No way. That would destroy his self-esteem. It might even make him resentful… it would definitely hurt him more than help him.'_

Not to mention if the truth ever got found out, her alliances might be tempted to abandon her son.

'_I can't let that happen. I will do whatever it takes to give Tom a good life.'_

'_Even if that means telling him this one big lie.'_

ℒ✪ⓥℯ

**1932**

Life with Tom was a lovely thing.

By the age of six, Tom had become such an adorable young boy. Amare was right in introducing Tom to society because every weekend was a new playdate for him. Making friends at that age wasn't easy for any of the children involved, but repeated exposure and encouragement from all parents attending made it less of a hassle.

After about a year of playdates, Tom had developed two solid friendships. One with Damien Malfoy, and the other with Orion Black. Orion was a couple of years younger than the two other boys, but his intelligence allowed him to mingle with Damien and Tom without issue. The three boys were always delighted to play games with one another—their favorite being hide and seek where Damien had an uncanny ability to find the other two boys.

Their friendship eventually developed into a close enough bond that Amare felt comfortable in allowing Tom to spend the nights over their homes, and invite the boys back to stay in the Amare manor as well. Amare wasn't one for social visits, nor did she like Tom being away from her for so long, but seeing how utterly happy he was spending time with his friends… how could she possibly refuse?

Her life, at long last, had finally felt warm.

Her son brought her joy she never would have imagined. Simply seeing his dimpled smile was enough to melt the frost that had collected over her heart over the years.

She loved her son.

_And he loved her, too._

ℒ✪ⓥℯ

**1934**

"Mother?" Tom asked her quietly one evening. The two of them were both in Amare's study. Amare was going over the financial paperwork for the vineyards. She sat at her large oak desk, stacks of papers piled neatly on either side of her. The desk sat at the far end of the room, in front of a massive window with dark red curtains in front. On either side of her desk were rows of bookcases.

At the opposite end of her desk was a massive fireplace and a couple of extremely comfortable seats. It had become a favorite spot for Tom. He loved to sit and read while Amare worked, both enjoying the others' company.

Fortuno had brought them both tea and snacks a few minutes ago. The elderly house elf was starting to get old enough that Amare would have to bring in a younger elf next year to begin assisting him.

"Yes, my sweet boy?" Amare inquired, pausing in her work to look up at her eight-year-old son.

Tom was bright for his age. He might have only been eight, but like many of his fellow heirs he already acted like a small adult.

Unless toys and candy were involved, then they would all transform in giggling children running rampant around the manor.

Tom hesitated, fiddling with the sleeves of his comfortable sweater. "W-Well, I was wondering… Damien got me thinking, I mean… Who is my father?"

'_Oh, shit,' _Amare thought to herself, having dreaded the day the lie would come.

Still, she was surrounded by plenty of Slytherins. Amare knew how to act, and she wholeheartedly believed that what she was doing was for the betterment of her son.

She had taken numerous steps to ensure that no one could refute her story. In addition to her mass-memory wipe, she used her connections to eliminate all paperwork pertaining to the Gaunts. The last of the two family members died in Azkaban—she pulled some strings to make sure neither got out early—and all traces of the Gaunt family officially disappeared one hundred and fifty years ago.

For the sake of her son's happiness and future, she would gladly bear this burden.

So Amare took a shaky breath, and asked, "Are you sure you're ready to know?"

Tom nodded firmly, dark eyes unwavering. "Is he… is he dead?"

"Yes," Amare answered. "I… I didn't want you to know until you felt you were ready. Come with me, my darling, and I will tell you a story."

Amare stood up from her desk and offered Tom her hand. Her heir accepted such, and she guided him to the attic. Cluttered with discarded heirlooms, but not an inch of dust to be found. Fortuno kept it as clean and orderly as can be.

In the very far back of the attic was a small chest. Amare brought her son over to it and opened it up.

Inside was a fine black cloak.

Amare took it out and placed it inside of Tom's lap, where the boy slowly unwrapped it. His eyes were wide, and he bit hard on his bottom lip. At the center of the cloak were the Slytherin locket, Slytherin ring, and one of Slytherin's daggers—which _sweet Merlin's balls that was a pain in the ass to get_.

Amare started to weave a pretty tale about Alder Thomas Slytherin.

She told Tom that he was the last of the Slytherin descendants, how he was homeschooled until his mother passed away. Alder then went on to study curse breaking in Egypt and India, and during one of his expeditions, he became afflicted with a powerful, and terrible curse. He knew he was going to die, and so he returned to Britain, wanting to die in his homeland.

Amare saw him during one of her walks around London, and the two fell in love. They enjoyed a wonderful year together, but nothing could stop the curse. Alder passed away a month before Tom was born, leaving behind the cloak, dagger, locket, and ring for his son.

By the end of it, Tom was silently crying, and Amare held him tightly in her arms. She wiped away his tears, and kissed his head, and soothed him the best she could. He cried over the loss of this father, but most of all he cried—

"I'm—_happy_—" Tom hiccupped. "Th-They said—I was—_un-unwanted_—"

Amare's eyes burned at that, and she pulled her son into her lap so she could rock and hug him. "Never. _Ever_. I love you, my sweet boy. Your father loved you. You are our precious heir."

Tom's cries turned into sobs, and her darling son cried himself into exhaustion before slipping into sleep.

From Tom's reaction, Amare felt absolutely certain that she had done the right thing.

ℒ✪ⓥℯ

"What does it mean to be the heir of Slytherin?" Tom asked her the following morning. His eyes were still puffy, but he ate his breakfast with great gusto. "That's—Hogwarts, right?"

"Yes," Amare answered. "Salazar Slytherin was one of the founders of Hogwarts. The Slytherin family has… fallen on hard times. You are the last of their bloodline, just as you are the last of the Luxventi."

Tom nodded, accepting this. He was raised to know he was the only living male in Luxventi. He was already receiving proper grooming to take over the family business after Amare's death. He and Amare visited the vineyards thrice a year so Tom could see how the Muggles maintained them. He knew his purpose in going to Hogwarts was to secure alliances for his family, just as it was Amare's decades ago.

Being a Slytherin didn't change his purpose much.

"I read about Salazar a little bit before breakfast," Tom admitted.

_'Of course, he did,' _Amare thought with fondness.

"Am I a Parseltongue?"

"Not a doubt in my mind," Amare said firmly, "but I was reluctant to bring you around snakes until you were ready for the truth. Are you wanting a snake familiar, my son?"

Tom's brow furrowed, and he hesitated. "Did my father?"

"Yes," Amare answered with practiced ease. "A krait named Earl. Although Earl died from the curse, as well."

Tom accepted this answer, chewing slowly on his potatoes. "I want a snake familiar."

"Then we will go shopping later today, okay my sweet?"

Tom smiled.

Every time they went out shopping Tom held Amare's hand tightly and stayed close to her. They both wore their luxurious black cloaks on that cold winter day, and Amare made sure Tom wore his mittens, scarf, and hat. She kissed his cold nose once, and he wrinkled it in annoyance when she did so.

Still, the moment they stepped foot in Diagon Alley, he immediately latched on to her.

Amare thought it was adorable.

The two of them went straight to the magical pet shop, where the clerk greeted them with an enthusiastic, "Good morning!"

"Good morning," Amare returned politely, her son echoing her. "Do you have any snakes in stock?"

"Snakes? Ah, a young boy going to Slytherin, eh?" the elderly man inquired, smiling kindly at Tom. "Just remember, you have to get special permission from the headmaster about bringing a snake to school."

"That won't be an issue," Amare responded, knowing Dippet was easily manipulated if given enough money.

Money was something Luxventi had plenty of.

Especially since she didn't need to spend it willy-nilly on securing alliances since her skill in potions, curses, and runes were valued enough. Malfoys were more than willing to spend their money for Amare if she brewed them whatever nasty little concoction they wanted.

Illegal, or not.

She was also one of the few—as in less than ten in the world—potion masters able to brew Felix Felicis.

Something of which the Greengrass and Malfoys _highly _valued.

The clerk beamed. "Good, now I keep all my snakes in the back. Follow me, if you please…"

Amare nudged her son forwards, and Tom took the uncomfortable lead. He still held onto her hand, but he walked a couple of steps in front of her to follow behind the older man. They entered into a back room where there were a few glass cages that had snakes inside of them. Tom approached the first one, his gaze was immediately drawn to a small black snake with forest green eyes.

"Hissah," Tom hissed out.

Goosebumps crawled down Amare's arm upon hearing the infamous Parseltongue.

The clerk jumped. "A—A Parseltongue?"

Amare reached into her pocket and handed the clerk a small bag of galleons. She smiled at him and put a finger to her lips.

The clerk wisely accepted the money and kept quiet.

The small black snake had raised its head up to look at Tom. Tom began to speak to it, and the snake hissed something back.

Tom nodded, turning back to the clerk. "I want him."

"Ah—Ah, yes, okay. That is our resident atheris. Venomous, but nothing a quick antivenom potion won't fix. He's about a month old, but he doesn't get very big—" The clerk rambled on until Tom interrupted him.

"I will take him," Tom insisted, pushing back the glass cover and reaching inside. The snake darted up Tom's hands and Amare's son pulled the young snake out and let it—him?—wrap around his arm inside his cloak. "We will need to get him a proper home, Mother."

Amare nodded, "Very well. How much for the atheris?"

"Ah—um—f-five galleons."

Amare gave him seven, and the family headed out with the addition of their new member.

Thane became his name, and the black snake bonded with Tom instantaneously. He had his own home set up inside of Tom's room—a very large and impressive terrarium where Tom loved to watch him feed—but he preferred to stay with Tom.

It wasn't uncommon to see a small black head poking out from Tom's sleeve or sweater.

With the confirmation of Tom's genetic gift, Amare's son firmly believed in his status. He hung up his father's cloak over his bedpost and kept the heirlooms in a separate locked chest at his bedside. Come the next playdate, he brought along Thane and told the story to his friends and future allies.

Of course, this meant that as soon as _they _told their parents, Amare received more than a few curious letters.

But no one could refute her story. She had covered her tracks too neatly, and with Tom's Parseltongue on display, no one had any _reason _to argue against her story. The Gaunt family wasn't well known prior to Amare eradicating their paperwork, so none of the other pureblood families disputed it.

Indeed, she actually received many _congratulations _on successfully carrying Slytherin's heir.

Not terribly surprising since nearly all of her alliances were born and bred Slytherins, and were undoubtedly tickled pink that their revered House Founder would be able to carry on his legacy through a _proper _family.

They did ask questions—many of the wives were curious to know the _thrilling _details, and Amare obliged them to a certain extent. She had memorized this story with such a passion, she could recite it in her sleep.

The discomfort of lying didn't go away, but when she saw how happy, and proud of her son looked—

How could she regret it?

ℒ✪ⓥℯ

**1935**

The Luxventi vineyards were well maintained. The illustrious wine was universally considered the _best _of the luxurious brands available to both Muggles and the Wizarding communities. The family had specially bred, and enchanted ingredients that no silly little Muggle company could ever hope to replicate. All of which was done very discreetly to not draw suspicion upon the magical community.

That being said because of the delicate work required on the fields the Luxventi found that Muggles worked the best.

Sure house elves _could _do the work, but then Luxventi couldn't sell their brand to the Muggle community as it would draw too much suspicion onto them. The Muggles would question like _Has anyone ever actually met someone who works there? _

Muggles were ideal workers. When given enough pay and treated kindly they worked just as well as any house elf, and could even think for themselves. Why! Just in this past century alone there had even been a handful of Muggles who had come up with some rather ingenious ways on improving the production rate of the wine. House elves were at loathe to question the master's method, let alone offer ways to improve it.

Amare took her son out to the vineyards every early spring, summer, and early December. It was important he knew how to build up a good relationship with the workers, and that he understood how to run the family business when he assumed his duty as Lord.

Tom was polite, inquisitive, and charming. It wasn't surprising to Amare that the workers were soon enamored with Tom. The duo toured all of the vineyards in Italy before heading off to dinner at a delightful Muggle restaurant that Amare adored.

Although in the carriage ride into town she noticed her son was spending an unusual amount of time dusting off his suit.

"My sweet, do you need us to stop by the villa for a quick bath first?" Amare inquired, concerned her son was uncomfortable."

"Too many Muggles shook my hand today," he said with a level disdain only bred purebloods could hold. "Why do we hire them at all?"

"Tom," Amare admonished. "Regardless of how we feel about Muggles we are not _idiots_."

Tom blinked in surprise at Amare's reprimand. "Idiots?"

"To simply discard a tool is wasteful," she scolded. "Muggles are ideal for working on our vineyards. Dislike them all you want, but don't you dare be so arrogant or brash as to let that prejudice get in the way of the Luxventi family. If there were no Muggles in the world, who would buy up all our wine? The wizarding community is significantly smaller in comparison and our profits would be heavily slashed. We'd lose out on such a substantial amount of money. Without money we have no power, and without power we have _nothing_. The family would fall into ruin."

Her child considered this. She watched his mind work behind his dark eyes, could practically hear his thought process as he accepted this callous logic. Amare was raised to put the family first, and she would accept nothing less of her son. She undrestood that being seeped in the world of old purebloods would result in a certain level of prejudice, but she would be damned if she let that prejudice ruin the family.

"Muggles, halfbreeds, and Muggleborns are all a part of life," Amare went on, softening her tone. "A _true _lord would acknowledge this fact and utilize it to the best of his abilities. Simply hating on an entire group of people is a waste of time and energy that could be better spent manipulating them to support us. You see the Muggles here at the vineyards, yes? See how they love us. When they love us, they work as hard as any house elf, and spread our brand name freely. They advertise with each day they brag about their work, and they keep us above all the other brands in the process. This could not be done with a house elf, or anyone else beside Muggles. And all that positivity directly translates into sales, into profits, into money used to buy alliances and things needed for the family.

"I understand some of your future friends and allies will view Muggles with disdain, but I know you're smart enough to not use their hatred to cloud your judgment. Use everything and everyone that you can, my son, regardless of how you feel about them. That is the rational, and best choice to make for yourself and for the family."

Tom nodded slowly, a click of understanding his eyes. "Yes, Mother."

"Do you understand, Tom?" Amare inquired, wanting to be sure this lesson would stick.

"I do," he assured her. "Needlessly discarding a potential ally, or source of revenue is foolish. Regardless of status, I should consider what they might provide for myself, and the family."

Amare smiled, relieved. "Yes, good. Wonderful, my dear, simply wonderful. Why don't we go shopping while we're here? Is there anything you'd like?"

"A new watch would be appreciated," Tom responded eloquently.

"Yes, dear."

ℒ✪ⓥℯ

**1936**

The day Tom finally went to Hogwarts was a day Amare felt bittersweet about. She had grown so used to Tom's presence in the home that knowing he would be gone made her heart ache.

But then he saw how proud and tall he stood. They both knew he would go straight to Slytherin, and so he was already given clothing with the appropriate colors.

Amare escorted her only son to the Hogwarts express, and she kissed his nose and said, "I love you, my sweet."

And he smiled that soft little smile just for her and he said, "I love you, too, Mother."

"No matter what happens, I will always support you," she promised, pulling him in for a tight hug. She was fighting back those proud tears as her heart soared and cracked. She wanted to scoop him up, take him home, and mother him for just—just a little bit longer. How could he already be going off to Hogwarts?

"I know," he said, hugging her with all his strength.

The two pulled apart after a minute, because any longer and that would be a touch too embarrassing for both of them. Displays of affection were intended for home, not public.

Amare smiled wobbly at her son, wiping at her eyes. "Take care, my sweet."

"I will," he said, ducking his head and furiously rubbing at his eyes. He grabbed his small briefcase and turned away.

Amare watched him board the train and felt an arm gently loop through her own. She turned her head to find Sol Malfoy smiling with bittersweet affection at Damien boarding the train with Tom.

"They grow up so fast," Lady Malfoy murmured.

"Too fast," Lady Luxventi agreed.

There was a pause.

"I think I'll be opening up some of the hundred-year barrels tonight," Amare dryly commented. "Care to join me?"

"How could I refuse?"

ℒ✪ⓥℯ

_Dear Mother,_

_I was sorted into Slytherin with my friends. Everyone in my year is a pureblood I am familiar with, so there is no awkwardness or discomfort in sharing a dorm with them. Thane doesn't like his smaller terrarium, but I don't think I can expand my room to accommodate him. _

_Hogwarts is as wonderful as you described—the feast itself was very good, but I think Fortunato cooks better. Damien wanted me to ask you if you would please send along delightful treats since Auntie is refusing to (Damien was grounded again for sneaking out). _

_I am most looking forward to Potions class, as I know I will do our family proud and be the best student. _

_I miss you._

_Your loving son,_

_Tom_

ℒ✪ⓥℯ

_Dear Mother,_

_Classes are going well. I get along with all the professors except Dumbledore, who oversees transfiguration. He doesn't seem fond of any of the Slytherins. Horace Slughorn, on the other hand, has already invited me to attend his Slug Club. Per your suggestion, I have accepted such and will attend the first meeting next week._

_There is no one of a particular standout amongst the other houses, as of yet. If anyone promising appears, I will be sure to capture their allegiance. _

_In regards to…_

_Your loving son,_

_Tom_

ℒ✪ⓥℯ

_Dear Mother,_

_Hogwarts has been a wonderful experience, but I do miss home. I know you said I could stay over at Hogwarts for Christmas if I wished to, but I would much rather be with you. Although I don't think I want to attend the Malfoy Solstice ball again, and Damien would like to request that he stay over at our place during it (with Auntie Sol's permission, of course). He said it was too embarrassing watching Uncle Septimus get drunk every year._

_I did pass along your invitation for a vineyard tour over the summer to Professor Slughorn, and Headmaster Dippet and both were as excited as you predicted. I would like the opportunity to lead the tour myself as practice, if I may?_

_Classwork has been…_

_Your loving son,_

_Tom_

ℒ✪ⓥℯ

_Dear Mother, _

_Christmas break feels too short. I already miss home all over again, yet I am oddly happy to be back at Hogwarts. There is a certain pull here. Classes are already back in full swing, and I have noticed there are two Muggleborns in my year group who have been doing exceptionally well in their studies. Better than Damien, even. One in Ravenclaw, and the other in Gryffindor. They lack basic mannerisms of wizards, but their potential in magic is something I cannot outright dismiss_.

_Would you please send me the list of items I have written on the back of this letter? I would like to secure their alliance. _

_Before I forget…_

_Your loving son,_

_Tom_

ℒ✪ⓥℯ

_Dear Mother,_

_It is hard to believe my first year is already at an end in only two weeks. Hogwarts has been a delight, and something I will sincerely look forward to against next year. But I am glad to be returning home, and it will be refreshing to have a solid month without worrying about homework. _

_Those two Muggleborns I previously mentioned (Marvin from Ravenclaw and Ethan from Gryffindor) have expressed an interest in visiting the manor with their families over the holiday. I know you already said it was okay, but we need to work out the dates now. _

_Damien is still hesitant in allying with them, but I feel confident I will win him over. He can't argue that they're useless when they consistently get better scores than him._

_Although his focus is more on joining the Quidditch team for some inane reason. He might be my best friend but sometimes I question his sanity…_

_Your loving son,_

_Tom_

ℒ✪ⓥℯ

**1938**

_Dear Mother,_

_I found a basilisk inside the Chamber of Slytherin, and he's very hungry. What do I do?_

_Your panicked son,_

_Tom_

ℒ✪ⓥℯ

_My Sweet Tom,_

_Attached to this letter is an undetectable ever-expanding bag. Inside is 500 kg of assorted meat. Please take it out slowly to feed the basilisk. Are you wanting to bring him home over the summer? If so, please let me know so I can make proper accommodations. Having a basilisk as a pet requires a lot of paperwork that I must get started on sooner rather than later._

_Have you told any members of the staff?_

_With love and support,_

_Mother_

ℒ✪ⓥℯ

_Dear Mother, _

_His name is Basileus, and he likes cow meat best. He'd love to come home with me since it's awfully lonely in the chambers. He's 60 meters long, over a thousand years old, and is very stinky. I think I'll have to give him a bath soon, so would you please send along some appropriate soaps and washing utensils?_

_I haven't told anyone about him or the Chambers, yet. I'm not sure how to proceed. Although Damien knows I've been sneaking out—he has covered for me._

_Your loving son,_

_Tom_

ℒ✪ⓥℯ

_My Sweet Tom,_

_I have sent along the necessary care supplies and begun the paperwork for adopting a basilisk. Septimus and I will be meeting at Hogwarts with Headmaster Dippet and Professor Slughorn to discuss the Chambers and the basilisk this weekend, so please be prepared. The Chambers is a historic find, and while as the heir of Slytherin anything marked with his family crest belongs to you, much of that ought to go to Hogwarts. If there are items you wish to keep for yourself, take them out now, and place them in the extendable bag I sent along previously._

_With love and support,_

_Mother_

ℒ✪ⓥℯ

_My Sweet Tom,_

_I think Basileus misses you. He keeps mewing like a lost cat in our backyard. It is quite the sight. Lady Malfoy is especially taken with him, and would appreciate it if you would allow her to preserve one of his sheds…_

_With love and support,_

_Mother_

ℒ✪ⓥℯ

_Dear Mother,_

_Damien has successfully tricked me into auditioning for Quidditch and I was stuck with the Seeker position._

_I need you to find a doctor who will give me a medical excuse to quit the team. Every attempt I make they somehow tick me back into practice, or actually participating in a match! I'm not sure how they do it. I'm starting to wonder if they are poisoning my drinks when I am not looking…_

_Your loving son,_

_Tom_

ℒ✪ⓥℯ

**1942**

_Dear Mother, _

_It is hard to believe I will be graduating soon. I can scarcely wrap my mind around the fact that I will be free from the dredge that is homework. My friends have been over the moon with joy about such, but I still feel like it has not sunk in yet._

_My time at Hogwarts has been beautiful chaos. I succeeded in my goal in creating alliances, using Muggleborns and purebloods for the sake of the family. I have plans to continue on outside of graduation, but I feel like it would be best if I took a little break before doing so. I need time to rest my mind and consider what is best for our family, and our future. _

_I love you, Mother. I look forward to being home, and I hope you won't mind if I stay a while longer._

_Your loving son.,_

_Tom_

ℒ✪ⓥℯ

I was going to do Abraxas Malfoy but then I looked it up that Tom is 28 years older than him, so Damien is Abraxas' father. :)

If time allows it I'd like to come back to this one shot and rewrite it as a fleshed-out story, but for now, I am happy with it as a one shot ending on a sugary sweet note.

A very sincere happy holidays to you all.

Reviews are **love**!


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